Galilee

Now we're talking in our sleep
The people look like trees
With their arms around their knees

Behind their eyes

Fantasizing of their dreams
Of a life that they could reach
If only grief could be deceived

At present, we see indistinctly as in a mirror
Staring into the abyss of conscioiusness
Wishing for it to be a little bit clearer
And reveal itself

The chaotic, cacophonous
F-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us

Now I'm a
Blind fool half asleep
While the children learn to pray
And the women start to weep

Because they see

The time
The coming of the day

When the wolves walk out the woods
Waking sheep from out their sleep

When they begin to scatter
Wondering what was the matter

With their sleep and their dreams
Lying shattered in the grass
Or rather disappeared
Into the clear, thin air

Then they will gather
Then they will gather
All around in the pasture
To the sound so unfamiliar
Yet familiar

A mysterious voice sadder
Yet happier, more joyous than any noise
They'd ever heard before

At present, we are sheep seeing indistinctly as in a mirror
Staring into the abyss of consciousness
Wishing for it to be a little bit clearer
And reveal itself

The chaotic, cacophonous
F-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us

Do sheeps even dream?

In the end the metaphysics are cryptic
If only we could settle to be still and just listen
To the voice of the Mystic
But then, just then

That

Second the watchman will come walking out to say
That the Mystic is dead
This chapter in our conceit has ended

But wait

Not yet

Maybe it's through His very Death
The sheep will be redeemed!

After all, the tomb was left empty
Stop holding on to me, Mary

Peter's threefold denial by the charcoal fire

Was answered by another scene
With another fire on the sea

Of Galilee

What if the whole world stopped to slow down
Took a deep breath, meditated, looked around

Appreciated

The splendor that is to be found

In Creation's sacred manifold
Christened by the Holy Ghost?